At 6 o'clock, on the Friday morning, the outer door of the caisson clanged and the foreman of the sand hogs came out.
"We've pierced through," he said. "The doctor's in there. He says all the men are alive, as yet, but he doesn't know if they'll recover. There's not much time to lose, judging by what he says."
"At the wall, men!" came the order.
The miners cheered. They were to have the glory of getting their comrades out, after all.
The picks hammered on the rock like hail. The cars roared through the galleries once more. The cages shot upward with their loads.
At 8 o'clock, a miner's pick went through the wall into the space leading to the room beyond, but there was still a lot of rock to move before a clear passage could be made.
Otto remembered the warning of the Mine Bureau official, and realized that, had he been left to himself, he would have killed his comrades at the very moment of rescue.
At 9 o'clock, the hole was big enough for one of the rescuers to pass. As before, a doctor was the first to scramble through the opening.
The excitement above ground was enormous. Each car might bring a survivor!
Every time that the cage was a few seconds late, hope rose high.